


At first blush

by musterings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A pair of dumb idiots, Awkwardness, Brotherhood gladnis, Community: FFXV_Kinkmeme, Confessions, Developing Relationship, First Dates, Firsts, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-20 05:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19987063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musterings/pseuds/musterings
Summary: Like any good commander of the battlefield, Gladio planned this out, with a speech written word for word on a post-it in his hoodie. They would go and see a movie together first, give them something to talk about to get the ball rolling, then if Ignis hadn't gotten sick of his company yet, they could go for a walk somewhere nice and talk some more.Ignis regarded him with a cold stare, a piercing green glare pointed downwards past his nose and at Gladio."Well?" he asked."Wanna go out with me some time?" was what tumbled out of Gladio's mouth instead.Written for the kink meme prompt: Ignis mistakes an invitation from Gladio to hang out for a date.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kotoyori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotoyori/gifts).



> Written for kotoyori who has opened my eyes to the gross lack of Brotherhood Gladnis in everyone's lives
> 
> This is a fill for the prompt [Cute teenage Gladnis, misunderstandings, mistaken for a date, oh no he's cute."](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=10976314#cmt10976314)

Gladio was still up to his father’s knee when his father began telling him stories of his grand road trip with his King and his closest friends and comrades. The young boy would beg to hear it again and again, eyes shining on the Amicitia parlour rug as his father regaled his son with the story for the millionth time. 

"One day, you too will serve a place in the Prince's circle," his father always concluded, "And your bonds will be stronger than any friendship under the light of the Crystal." 

Asleep in his bed with dreams filled of his adventures with his King and companions, he never heard the conversations between his parents that followed.

“I’m curious to see what will come out of those stories you’ve filled our son’s head with, my love,” his mother would softly whisper as she peeked through his door frame,

“I can’t see what else could happen Aster, apart from the boy gaining a sense of dedication,” said his father, “He’ll most likely grow out of it anyhow,”

“Oh, I don’t know Clarus,” his mother shut the door behind them. She pushed a lock of her thick, dark hair behind her ear, and she stroked her stomach with a gentle smile. Soon, Gladiolus would have a sibling to bond with too. “Gladiolus can be pretty headstrong.”

“Stubborn, you mean, dear,”

“Just like his father," she said with a small laugh, then she added, as they walked into their bedroom, "But you should tell him something lighter next time."

"Such as?"

She hummed, and there was a sparkle in her golden eyes as she lowered herself to bed.

"Something where our children can gain a sense of romance."

Through the years his father's stories continued, featuring additional characters like the Shield's beloved wife, their exuberant son and soon, a precious daughter. The stories grew shorter as their father grew busier, but he persisted, even after his wife's passing, until Gladio was too big to sit at his feet. Although the dramatism in each retelling faded as Gladio grew older, the significance of his father’s bonds with King and comrades did not. And as he began his training with the Crownsguard, his dream to forge lifelong bonds with the King he’ll serve and his comrades only grew stronger.

The stubbornness of his Prince was at first a hindrance to this goal, but with time, Noctis displayed a reluctant commitment to his role that Gladio had to acknowledge. 

A more onerous challenge however, was the unmovable object, Ignis Scientia.

Introduced to the other boy as children, Ignis had only ever been cold and aloof, replying to Gladio's curious questions with strained responses and an upturned nose, looking nothing more than uncomfortable being in the young Shield-to-be’s presence.

To be fair, their roles, their grooming and their training through the years ran parallel to each other, their paths never quite cleanly meeting, so there were minimal chances for Gladio to get to know Ignis better. And it would be presumptuous to hold a grudge over the guy he's meant to spend the rest of his life with, when Gladio hadn’t really given him much of a chance. Not that Ignis had given _Gladio_ much of a chance either.

On the eve of celebrating his admission to the Crownsguard, Gladio overheard that Ignis would be following suit soon after. And Gladio figured, why not give it another go? They’ll only be spending more time together as they prepare to more thoroughly train to fill their roles in Noctis’s life.

"I'm gonna do it Dad," declared Gladio through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Months had passed since his high school graduation, and shortly after then, his own Crownsguard admission, and he'd had time to take stock of his new training schedule, his own specialised education as Shield to the Prince, and any university classes of interest he could fill into the gaps. 

"Do what?" asked Clarus. He lifted his coffee mug to his lips, a pair of glasses perched on his nose which he peered through to read the morning paper.

"Make friends with Ignis, and forge 'em lifelong bonds," 

Clarus chuckled, and laid the paper down in front of him, "And here I thought you'd outgrown that story." 

“The story? Maybe,” Gladio poured himself a glass of orange juice, "But the bonds? Not until I forge ‘em," 

Clarus shook his head and picked up his paper again, “You don’t do anything by halves do you Gladiolus?”

“Nope.”

* * *

On a warm Wednesday afternoon, Gladio strutted past the training hall doors, completely lackadaisical, and regarded the door handles with mock surprise, as if he hadn't snooped through the training hall bookings the week before to see if Ignis would be using them. He pulled the door open to reveal that the training hall bookings were indeed accurate, for there was Ignis, in a plain white tank top moving through his drills that showed off a pair of lean arms and defined muscle. Gladio blinked slowly, and moved to sit on a bench a small distance away, whistling as he regarded the training hall’s ceilings and floors. 

_The fuck am I doing?_

"Can I help you?" asked Ignis. 

Gladio jumped in his seat. He hadn’t heard him approach, nor noticed how quickly Ignis had cleared their distance in such a small amount of time.

"Nah, I just wanted to talk! I’ll let you finish first though." 

"Is this about Noct?" 

"No?" 

For a split second Ignis's eyes narrowed in suspicion and Gladio was sure then that he'd turn down the offer to even just _talk,_ but then Ignis walked up closer to stand in front Gladio, close enough that his shadow loomed over him and that Gladio could smell him. Most guys stink like three week old socks half an hour into any workout. 

Not Ignis.

"I'm taking a break anyway," said Ignis, and Gladio noticed the way his eyes briefly blinked down at the old trainers Gladio wore and how he scrunched his nose right after, "What did you need from me?" 

Like any good commander of the battlefield, Gladio planned this out, with a speech written word for word on a post-it in his hoodie. They would go and see a movie together first, give them something to talk about to get the ball rolling, then if Ignis hadn't gotten sick of his company yet, they could go for a walk somewhere nice and talk some more. 

Though he probably ruined his first impression with Ignis long ago, it wouldn’t hurt his case for friendship at all if he showed Ignis that he was organised and meticulous, but that he had plenty of options ready as well, so he can also be spontaneous. Flexible to new situations. Shit, maybe he should’ve just sent Ignis his résumé. 

Ignis regarded him with a cold stare, a piercing green glare pointed downwards past his nose and at Gladio.

"Well?" he asked. 

"Wanna go out with me some time?" was what tumbled out of Gladio's mouth instead.

_Ah shit._

He was ready to take it back, but Ignis’s brow slowly relaxed. He stepped back from Gladio, and his cheeks rapidly grew red—or were they already from his workout?—and his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Yes," came Ignis's abrupt and breathless answer, "Yes, I'd like that very much," 

"Right so next weekend?” said Gladio, his mind reeling at how quick that response was, "Will that work?”

Ignis’s mouth drew into a thin worried line, and he held his chin in his hand, "I’ll have to see.”

“How about this, gimme your phone.”

Ignis pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Gladio. Gladio punched his number in and added his name to Ignis’s contact list.

“There you go, now call my phone so I have your number.”

Ignis did as he was told with fumbling fingers.

“Let me know if next weekend works for you then we’ll work out what we’re doing yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ignis, “Thank you Gladiolus.”

_For what?_

“No worries,” said Gladio, “And just Gladio’s fine.”

"I’ll let you know then,” Ignis’s eyes darted to the side, “Gladio.”

And for the first time in the years they've known of each other's existence, Ignis looked back at him straight in the eye and gave him a warm smile. 

That… was easier than expected? 

Next weekend was indeed free for Ignis, so they agreed on a time and a meeting place. The pressure to impress was on when Ignis let Gladio choose what movie to see—"I'm not quite up to speed with what's new," he had said over the phone—and after careful deliberation, Gladio chose one of the horror flicks with a late afternoon screening slot. 

What better way to bond with a friend than under intense fear and adrenaline? 

On the day of their proposed hang out, Gladio scratched his head in front of his wardrobe, fresh out of the shower and in his underwear. Ignis was a well put together guy, and he’d probably expect the same level of effort from someone he deigned worthy to spend his time with.

With a laboured sigh, Gladio pulled on a pair of dark jeans, it's hard to find any in his size that also had room for his massive thighs, and even then this pair knew how to cling, and a thin plain gray ribbed sweater—a safe style and shade, and the ribbing contoured the shirt around his biceps and chest nicely without strain. He tossed on a black leather jacket he found at the back of his closet, combed and set the top part of his undercut in place with gel and slipped on a pair of his cleanest boots, which were rare for Gladio if he were to be honest, so he's really pulling all the stops for Ignis here, and stood in front of his mirror to check himself out. 

He crossed his arms and looked at the mirror, and his reflection scowled back at him. His eyes travelled back into his wardrobe and landed on an unopened bottle of cologne in his top shelf, which had been a present for his eighteenth birthday.

 _That’d be a bit much right?_

But then again, Ignis still smelled like he’d just stepped out of a shower that afternoon in the training halls, and that was in the middle of a workout.

He unwrapped the box from its shrink wrapping with a sigh, popped the bottle out of its box and pulled at the collar of his shirt so he could spray at his neck and then at his wrists. After a few more cautious glances at his mirror, he lumbered down the stairs to the hall and to the living room, patting his pockets for his keys and his wallet. 

"I'm heading out," said Gladio, 

"Ooh are you going on a date?" cooed Iris from the sofa. She shuffled to turn around on the sofa and leaned her elbows against the backrest to examine her brother, her eyes inquisitively scanning him from head to toe.

"What, no I'm just hanging out with Ignis," 

"Oh," she turned back to her TV program, having lost all interest, "You look nice though,” she sniffed the air, “Is that cologne?" 

"Thanks I guess?" Gladio frowned, "And yeah. Y'think it's a bit much?”

“I’m sure Ignis’ll like it,” said Iris, with a playful lilt to her voice, “Have fun Gladdy,”

"I will, thanks Iris," 

He thought nothing of their exchange as he exited his house and caught the metro up to the nearest cinema. Driving would've been an option, but his Dad had the car. Besides, walking meant he and Ignis would have more time to chat. The metro pulled up at his stop and it was only a short walk up to the cinema, where a figure stood away from the rest of the crowds lined up at the ticket window.

"Hey Ignis!" Gladio called out with a wave. 

Ignis's head jolted up from his phone and he responded with a weak wave in return, before walking over to stand in front of Gladio with careful and wooden steps.

"Were you waiting long?" asked Gladio, 

"No, not at all," said Ignis. He lifted his eyes slowly up from Gladio’s shoes, lingering over his chest, and then up at his eyes, only to not quite properly meet them, "I had only just gotten here." 

Truth be told, Gladio wouldn’t have recognised Ignis in the crowd. He had a jacket draped over one arm, and wore a sweater a deep shade of olive over a light grey button down shirt—linen, so officially the most casual shirt Gladio has seen Ignis in—with the top button undone, his sleeves folded up to his elbows and his dark jeans cuffed over a pair of brown brogues. He caught the scent of Ignis's perfume—smoky, with the hint of spice and vanilla—and thanked the gods for his and Iris's foresight to use his cologne.

Gladio didn’t even know Ignis _owned_ jeans. 

He looked good.

"You look good," Ignis blurted out, cutting Gladio's thoughts short. 

"Thanks?" said Gladio, in the same questioning tone for the second time that evening. He scratched the back of his head. Hey, friends give friends compliments. He and the other recruits complimented each other in the lockers all the time, but often with rough slaps on the back to accompany it, "You look nice too."

Ignis looked up to meet his eyes for a brief second, his eyes wide with surprise, only to avert them again, "Thank you." 

Gladio gave him a weak nod. Upon closer inspection, Ignis's cheeks looked liked they'd been rubbed red. Perhaps he had been waiting out in the cold for too long. 

"Come on,” said Gladio. He patted Ignis’s shoulder, gently, not like the roughhousing he did with recruits in the locker room, “Let's get inside."

Gladio paid for their tickets, and they bought enough popcorn and large drinks to feed an entire family, _I have a big appetite,_ Gladio reasoned, only for Gladio to panic and backtrack on his purchases when Ignis insisted on paying for _all_ their food. _It was only fair_ , Ignis argued. 

The conflict of their purchases aside, they entered the movie theatre and settled into their seats. Gladio glanced around at the other people in the cinema. A number of them were couples, using the horror movie as an excuse to hold each other tight, even before the opening trailers were over. Gladio chuckled. _That’s clever_.

"Have you seen the reviews for this one?" Gladio muttered as the opening credits started,

"I can't say I have. Have you?"

“Nope,” Gladio pulled off his jacket and relaxed into his seat. 

If they had thought to look at the reviews beforehand, they would've known that the film was plain terrifying.

Early into the movie the jump scares were cheap and predictable, and Gladio would lean over the arm rest and joke about the special effects in Ignis's ear, and he’d grin whenever he successfully teased out a nervous laugh from the other man. But soon, the movie picked up its pace, and it left Gladio recoiling in his seat away from the movie screen with a hand held over the side of his face every few scenes.

The smile Ignis shot over their armrests was smug, his face illuminated by the glow of the cinema screen.

"I thought you said it wasn't scary," he whispered in Gladio’s ear across the armrest,

"Well yeah,” hissed Gladio, “Up until the thing with the missing legs just fuckin' jumped out,"

Midway through the film, the movie eased off the scares, and there was a lull in the music and the screams, which so far had felt like they went on forever, giving Gladio a moment of reprieve to release the tension in his muscles.

But then the movie protagonist rounded a corner, and the suspenseful music drew into a crescendo.

A hand gripped Gladio’s wrist and he jolted in his seat. 

"Apologies," murmured Ignis as he retracted his hand,

“It’s fine,'" said Gladio, his heart thumping in his chest, "Not such a tough guy now are we Iggy?" 

"Bloody _hell—_ " was Ignis's only retort to that, and he wedged his face between Gladio's seat and shoulder, gripped Gladio's bicep with one hand and cupped his other hand over his eyes. The weight of Gladio's sweater was so thin, he could feel how hot Ignis's grip was around his bicep.

The corner of Gladio's lip twitched. 

_That’s kinda cute._

“You alright there Iggy?” 

"Is it gone?" came the flat muffled voice against Gladio’s shoulder, 

"Yep, you can open your eyes now," 

The weight behind his shoulder eased off as Ignis pulled himself off him to settle back in his seat, his deep breaths audible over the total silence of the ensuing scene. The protagonist had locked himself into a shed, away from the hellish ghoul, and the two boys’ eyes were glued to the screen as they watched the protagonist survey his hiding spot.

Ignis’s pinky brushed against Gladio’s.

The protagonist turned to the shed window, and emerging from the bushes was the ghoul—the thing with the missing legs, Gladio yelled out loud—which broke through the window with a blood curdling scream, the shatter of the glass and the protagonist’s cries echoing throughout the cinema.

" _Fuck—!"_

_"You said it was gone!"_

A warm hand gripped the back of Gladio’s.

He could only smile for a split second as Ignis pressed his face into Gladio’s shoulder again—there was no time to figure out either if his racing heart was from the movie or from every squeeze of Ignis’s hand in his—because the ghoul had started to do very creative things with the protagonist’s innards, and Gladio clamped his eyes shut, squeezing Ignis’s hand in return throughout the protagonist’s final screams, not once letting go until the credits.

"That was…" 

"That was horrendous," Ignis supplied. His cheeks were still flushed red, in an even deeper shade than before, "How was that film's release even legal?" 

The theatre wasn't that cold was it? It hadn't been too warm either. 

"I swear the trailer wasn't that scary when I saw it,"

"I suppose they were saving it for the actual film," Ignis fiddled with his lapels before settling his pea jacket over his shoulders, "I apologise for, um— For grabbing you so much."

"What? No! That’s all part of going out to see a horror movie with someone. " Gladio swatted his hand, "Wanna get a bite to eat?" 

Ignis agreed with a quiet nod. They exited the cinema out into the cold autumn air, the afternoon having given way to the early evening. Down the streets dotted with street lights starting to flicker on, they walked in stride to the nearby plaza, which was lined with several cafes and food trucks. 

Again, Ignis defaulted to Gladio’s choice, but Gladio still cast nervous glances at Ignis as they perused the outdoor menus of each place. Despite his careful deliberation, he ended up choosing a simple kebab truck. Ignis watched with fascination as the man at the back of the truck shaved meat off a large vertical spit, laying it out with an abundance of vegetables and sauces on a piece of flatbread which he rolled up and wrapped in a paper bag, whilst Gladio ordered and paid for their food from the other man at the front window.

They sat on one of the benches along the plaza and unwrapped their food, and Gladio could barely suppress a smile from watching Ignis try as humanely possible, neatly eat the kebab he held in his hand. 

Something was off about Ignis this evening. 

When Gladio planned this evening out, his worst case scenario was, and a good Shield always had a worst case scenario, Ignis would be standoffish, he'd hate the movie, he’d roll his eyes at Gladio’s boorishness and he’d leave as soon as he was politely able.

Instead, here he was, studying his kebab with an intense gaze as he navigated through it, like it was a problem he needed to solve and his face still bright red. He didn’t even sneer at Gladio’s meal choice, only politely accepted it with a small thank you. He was quiet, but not like the self-assured young man who held himself like he was above sparing Gladio any breath to speak with him. But rather he was skittish, his silence backed by a nervous energy while he avoided Gladio’s gaze, and often flinching at Gladio’s inadvertent touches.

"Do you watch a lot of horror movies then?" asked Ignis out of the blue, 

"Not really. Just saw the ad and I thought I'd see that one with you," said Gladio with a shrug, "Why? Did ya hate it?" 

"Oh, no, not at all," Ignis bowed his head, "It was horrifying, but it wasn't bad."

They ate their food and it seemed Gladio’s plan to watch a… _topical_ movie was coming together, with their conversation shaping itself around the movie, the casting, the music, the realistic special effects, all the while Gladio reassured Ignis that it was fine if he made a bit of a mess—kebabs are just messy to eat—whilst he handed him napkins. 

Eventually they finished their food and threw their wrappers away in a nearby bin, effectively wrapping up their conversation with it. Ignis looked dejectedly at his phone lock screen. 

_Shit, was he bored?_

"It's still early," said Gladio, "If you don’t have anything else you need to do, wanna grab something warm to drink and go for a walk somewhere?" 

Ignis visibly brightened, nodding his head in silence before walking with Gladio to a nearby café. 

They ordered a takeaway hot chocolate each and Gladio led them away from the plaza and into a park a few blocks away, where even in the early evening it was still teeming with families out for a stroll with their children or their dogs, and interestingly enough, more couples holding hands, and Gladio noted with interest how Ignis's head tracked each one. 

They walked down the park footpaths and, all according to plan, they made small talk. Gladio had his own list of conversation topics on hand so that there wouldn’t be any risk of any awkward silences that could lead to Ignis’s eventual evaluation that Gladio was indeed, boring and shallow, but Ignis seemed to stumble upon different topics, in a tone of casual surprise like how one would stumble upon a trail of coins along a path.

“The weather’s been awfully chilly lately,”

“Gonna be a cold winter this year, I bet,” said Gladio. He tucked his elbows closer to his sides, mindful of how his hand kept brushing against Ignis's. 

"By the way," Ignis said,

"Yeah?"

"You're sporting a very pleasant scent this evening," stated Ignis, 

"You sayin' I don't smell nice any other time?" said Gladio, his grin both amused at the robotic quality to Ignis's compliment, but sheepish from receiving a compliment from him.

"No— I meant— You don't smell _bad_ any other time— Which isn't to say I go around trying to smell you—"

"I get it Iggy, I'm just messin' with ya," Gladio laughed, "But thanks. You—" Gladio scratched his head, "Smell nice too?"

“Thank you,” Ignis muttered, then he added, like he was wondering out loud, “You called me ‘Iggy' earlier in the cinema too."

“Sorry 'bout that, ” Gladio frowned as he kept to Ignis’s strides, “I heard Noct say it once. I can stop if it bothers you.”

“No— It’s fine— Noct's the only other person who calls me nicknames,” Ignis stammered, “It was nice,”

“You don’t mind if I keep doing it then?”

“I don’t mind,” said Ignis, “I quite like it.”

Nickname basis! Gladio was getting somewhere.

They walked in silence, and Gladio mentally reached into his own repertoire of questions—

“Oh!” Ignis exclaimed, and Gladio smiled at his uncharacteristic sound of surprise, “What were the origins of the food we just ate? I've never seen meat be prepared or served as such before,”

“I'm not entirely sure," said Gladio, and he couldn't help his amused grin, "Pretty sure it's a Galahdian thing to have the meat on the spit like that. Don't each much from the plaza do you?" 

"Not all that much, no," Ignis pursed his lips and shook his head, and Gladio watched from his peripheral vision as he furrowed his brow again. 

“How’s—” Gladio began, “Is work—” Ignis blurted out,

“My apologies—” “Sorry—”

Ignis clamped his mouth shut and Gladio scratched his head.

“You go first,” said Gladio,

“I was going to ask if work’s picked up, now that you’ve graduated and have been admitted into the Crownsguard.”

“I’d say so yeah, I’ve been shadowing Cor a bit more too,” Gladio’s hand knocked against Ignis’s, so he moved it away, “And you? You’re getting ready to join up soon too right?”

“That’s correct,” said Ignis with a nod, “I’ve been busy with preparing for the tests,”

“Lemme know if you need someone to spar with!" said Gladio with a wink, "I could give you some insider tips,” 

“That would be helpful,” stuttered Ignis.

As they continued their walk through the park, Gladio noticed the way Ignis’s eyes darted to the corner at his direction, his brow once again lined in deep thought as the silence slowly crept back between them.

Gladio’s hand knocked against Ignis’s again. 

"Gladiolus," Ignis said partway through a thought,

“Yeah?” Gladio halted in his tracks, and eyed the hand that Ignis placed on his arm,

He lifted his head up, but kept his eyes glued to the necklace on Gladio’s chest, and his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Could we hold hands?" he asked.

The driver in Gladio's brain must’ve slammed on the brakes, as all semblance of thought came to a screeching halt, and the only sound in the sudden silence was the echo of Ignis’s words replaying in his head.

Bright green eyes looked up at him expectantly.

Iris held hands with her friends. Girls held hands with their friends _all_ the time. Why couldn't Gladio and Ignis? He was probably still scared from the torture Gladio put him through at the cinema too, and Gladio was a good friend, he'll hold his hand through it. 

There was a term for it wasn’t there, where you strengthen your bonds through the physical contact between your friends? 

"Sure," Gladio responded with a shrug, extending his free hand out to Ignis. Ignis took it in his, carefully, like he was testing its weight, before he settled it against his side. Against the hard calluses of Gladio’s hand, Ignis’s skin was soft and his palm was hot.

"Are you feelin' okay by the way?" asked Gladio, "You're really warm." 

"I'm— I'm fine, I'm just," said Ignis with a sigh, "This is all a bit new to me." 

A sharp pain stabbed through Gladio's chest. 

_H_ _anging out with friends is new to Ignis?_

"Well get used to it!” Gladio chuckled, “‘Cause there'll be a lot more of this from me!" 

Stumbling in his step next to him, Ignis tugged lightly at Gladio's hand, and Gladio looked down at his companion.

Ignis smiled up at him, his cheeks rising high and his eyes squinting to a brilliant sliver of green. 

A hitch caught in Gladio’s throat. It's the most genuine smile Gladio had ever seen on Ignis in the years they've known each other. 

"I look forward to it," said Ignis in a small voice.

They found another bench in the park where they drank their hot beverages, and that was when it seemed like Ignis had his own laundry list of questions to work through, asking Gladio about what his classes were like for the coming semester, how his father and Iris were doing, what his training schedule was like—which he then lined up with Gladio’s so they could find a time to train together—then talked about what they got up to besides their classes now that school was done. 

Ignis’s sudden curiosity perplexed Gladio, but Gladio was just as eager to connect with a new friend. They’ve known of each other’s existence for so long and yet this was the longest sustained conversation Ignis has ever had with him, so Gladio answered each question best as he could and threw them back at Ignis, and Ignis would hum, impressed at the advanced classes Gladio would be taking, or Gladio would let out a low whistle at Ignis’s modest admission of accelerating through a Bachelor's degree. 

The weight in Gladio’s chest lightened. He’d been so nervous all day that there would be _nothing_ to talk about, but even if Ignis wasn’t so hellbent in digging up every detail about Gladio as he seemed to now, they bounced topics off each other with relative ease.

Why hadn’t it been this easy before?

Gladio readjusted his seating and released Ignis's hand, and for a moment Ignis was crestfallen, until Gladio draped his arm across the back of the bench, and Ignis scooted closer as they touched on topics that inched further away from work. Ignis’s favourite books, Gladio’s favourite food, what their hobbies were. Ignis had never been camping before, his uncle never really had the time to take him since Ignis had come to live in Insomnia. Gladio learned to cook a few simple recipes from his mother, but it would be nice to learn with someone again. Gladio's booming laughter at Ignis's wit and dry humour made other passing park visitors jump. Ignis's gaze softened at the fondness in Gladio's voice when he spoke of Iris, and even more amusing to Ignis, of Noctis.

Sitting on a bench next to Ignis, his normally tense shoulders relaxed against Gladio’s arm, and the stern brow he often fixed Noctis with done away with, Gladio could only come to one conclusion. 

Ignis wasn’t such a bad guy.

From a very young age he was thrust into the responsibility for the guidance of another child, a Crown Prince at that, and surrounded by adults with only the Prince as his source of social contact in his age group. It wrenched Gladio's chest to hear no mention of any other friends as Ignis quietly detailed his working week and how he passed the time by.

From what Gladio recalled, Ignis accelerated through the prep school he was sent to, where he would’ve been three or four years younger than everyone around him. He was constantly proving himself to be worthy of a place in Noctis's life, that his peers would've failed to see that he didn't hold himself in higher esteem over others the way they thought he did.

And at first blush, the way Gladio once thought he did.

Ignis was shy, just like how any other teenager should be allowed to be and grow into, with the help of a solid group of friends who could help him out of his shell. He just needed that group of friends. And Gladio had bonds he was keen to forge. 

Their conversations trailed off in breathy laughter, long after they reached the bottom of the takeaway cups. 

"Is there a time I need to get you home by?" asked Gladio, 

The light of a phone screen glowed between them as Ignis checked his phone, and that dejected downturn of his lips was back. Gladio would probably even call it a pout. 

“We should probably head off now if I want to make it to my train on time," murmured Ignis, "I have another early start tomorrow."

"On a weekend?" 

Ignis nodded. 

“I’d say that sucked, but I’d probably have to start doing that soon,” Gladio stretched his arms out in a yawn, “Alright, let’s get going,”

They rose from the bench, and Ignis's brows perked up when Gladio took his hand in his again.

They talked about their plans for the week as they walked to the nearest metro stop, with Gladio trying to process exactly _why_ he chose to take Ignis’s hand again while they got on the first train on Ignis’s line, the contrast of the train car’s heating pronounced against their cold skin having come in from the autumn chill. They took their seats near the rattling doors, their hands still clasped in each other’s.

The evening rush hour was long gone, and Gladio's eyes scanned around the train car at the other passengers, half on instinct, partly out of curiosity. An elderly lady sat knitting by the corner, next to a couple of businessmen coming home from their overtime, and just like in the park, there were a few couples sitting or standing around the train car, their heads against the other's shoulders, and hands interlinked on each other's laps. A few of them murmured their conversations. The rest sat in silence, weary after a long day. 

A weight slumped against Gladio’s shoulder. 

With his eyes fluttering closed, Ignis’s head leaned against Gladio’s shoulder, dead to the world beyond the warm body against him.

Something flickered on in Gladio’s chest.

_Do I wake him?_

But there was no sign of the crease and stern lines that normally took residence between Ignis’s eyebrows, his sleeping face serene under the harsh white light of the train car. 

The elderly lady smiled at Gladio over her knitting. Gladio responded with a friendly nod. 

For the next few stops, Gladio sat still with Ignis’s weight warm against his shoulder, and Gladio could hear his soft breaths even through the rush of the train through the metro tunnels. He briefly wondered if it would be more comfortable if he let go of Ignis’s hand so he could wrap his arm around his friend’s shoulders to hold him in place instead, but the train conductor announced their approach towards what sounded like Ignis’s stop.

He lightly tapped Ignis by the arm. His friend stirred, his eyes groggy as he lifted his head off Gladio’s shoulder.

"Hey, wake up," Gladio whispered, "Your stop's coming up." 

Ignis eyes opened slowly, before they shot wide open, and he jolted out of his seat. 

"I apologise, I— I didn’t mean to nod off— " he looked away from Gladio and fumbled through his pockets, presumably to look for his wallet, "I had a lovely time Gladio—" 

"What are you talkin' about?” Gladio got up from his seat and gave the elderly lady another nod before he placed an arm around Ignis’s shoulder, “I'm walking you home."

"You don't have to do that," said Ignis with a frown, “You’ve still got a way left to go.”

"Another transfer after this's no big deal, so come on." 

They hopped off the train, and there was a small jump in Gladio’s chest when it was Ignis who took his hand back in his. 

_Skinship!_ That’s what the word was.

Autumn leaves swept away by the wind from their heaped piles crunched under their feet, as they walked down a street lined with ornate town houses, the tall trees along the sidewalk with the modest covering of their remaining orange leaves creating patterns along the pavement with the streetlights overhead.

"Early start today huh?" asked Gladio,

"Yes, but it's no different to any other day," said Ignis, "It feels like there aren't quite enough hours during the day,” 

“Not enough to let you sleep even,” Gladio shook his head in disbelief, “Shit, today was probably long enough already without me butting in, huh?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” said Ignis, and his grip squeezed against Gladio’s like a firm reassurance, “The train car was just very warm. It was hard not to let sleep take over.”

Gladio chortled, "This happen often then?”

“Not at all, I drive most days,” said Ignis. He kept his gaze straight to the stretch of street ahead of them, and cleared his throat with a cough, “Plus I don’t always have such a comfortable human pillow with me when I commute.” 

Heat crept up Gladio's cheeks, but he masked his embarrassment with a long and loud laugh that echoed down the quiet street. He matched Ignis’s slow pace up the street until Ignis's grip in his hand grounded him in front of the stairs to one house.

"This is me," said Ignis. 

The warmth that was in Gladio’s chest all evening dimmed when Ignis slipped his hand out of Gladio’s and turned to face him, only to point his gaze downward once more while he fished his keys out of his pocket. 

"I had a really lovely evening Gladiolus," said Ignis with a slight quiver to his voice, "As I said earlier, I've never really gone on a date with someone before and I know it's silly but—" 

_A what now?_

—no amount of research will ever quite live up to the real thing, and you've been so kind and patient with me tonight despite me figuring this all out, so thank you. For the wonderful evening." 

Gladio's vision blurred and his knees went weak. Ignis was beginning to knit his brows in concern and Gladio's mind raced through all the evidence that he'd missed. 

The hand-holding. The nervous blushes. All the touching. So that wasn't skinship?

And had Ignis been _flirting_ with him on the way back?

Ignis _thought_ he was on a date with Gladio.

Gladio suddenly felt light-headed.

Now the right and honest thing to do would be to correct the misunderstanding. 

Ignis smiled up at Gladio. He imagined Ignis meticulously researching and planning for their weekend, brimming with excitement that spilled into his nervous glee during their "date."

"I had a really nice time too," said Gladio, hoping his voice didn't come out choked, 

"Could we do this again?" asked Ignis.

Could they hang out again, and have another really enjoyable evening where they can get to know each other some more?

Yes, sure, a million times yes. 

But for "this" to be another date?

Ignis looked at him with anticipation, awaiting an answer. And if Ignis thought this was a date, a question like that took a lot of guts to ask. 

"Sure,” said Gladio when he found his voice again, and he dug his grave deeper, “Just let me know whenever," 

Ignis brought his head up to meet Gladio's gaze, his smile wide and his eyes overflowing with happiness, and the next thing Gladio knew, Ignis’s wrapped under his arms and around his midsection. 

All function in Gladio’s limbs froze for a second. His eyes darted down to Ignis’s head pressed against his chest—and again, Iris had been right about using cologne—his hands grasped at air, and his brain cells screamed in his head, _hug back, hug back ya dingus_!

Gently, Gladio lowered his arms and firmly wrapped them around Ignis's narrow shoulders, and tentatively stroked over one shoulder.

If Gladio’s already unintentionally taken Ignis on a date, he may as well get an intentional hug.

Ignis pulled away, his face full flushed, so _that_ 's why he'd looked like a beet all day, and before Gladio could recover from all this physical contact he had received—from someone who less than 24 hours ago, couldn't even stand near him without a scowl—Ignis asked in one breath, with a gleam in his eyes that Gladio couldn’t mistake as he held his gaze, 

"Would you permit me to kiss you?" 

And that was it. Alarms in Gladio’s brain blared code red as it shut itself down, leaving Gladio to fend for himself.

_I could tell him now. Fuck, I should tell him now._

His eyes quickly darted to Ignis’s lips, pink from the cold, just like his cheeks were, and Gladio’s never noticed before how full his bottom lip looked, and then he wrenched his eyes back up to his waiting gaze. 

“Yes,” said Gladio through a dry throat.

With a deep breath, Ignis raised himself on the tips of his toes, placed his hands firm on Gladio's shoulders and brushed his lips against Gladio's cheek, and they were as supple as they looked. 

“Good night Gladio,” said Ignis with a tremble in his voice, but before Gladio could croak out a pathetic good night back, Ignis had already bolted up the steps to the front door, and opened and snapped it shut behind him with great efficiency that could only be expected of Ignis Scientia.

* * *

Ignis thought they were on a date. 

Shit, there was a _huge_ communication gap there. Humongous. How had Gladio asked him out, that afternoon in the training hall? It was hard to recall now, Ignis gave Gladio one glance—and if looks could kill Ignis has killed him many times over before—and the fear that instilled in him blurred the memory in his mind. 

Wait, but if Ignis thought Gladio asked him out on a date, and Ignis said yes—

You only agree to go on a date with someone if you, even if just a little bit—

And Ignis thought that Gladio asked him on a date, wouldn’t that mean that he thought that Gladio also—

On his bedside table, Gladio’s phone lit up through the darkness in his bedroom.

A message from Ignis. 

" _Thank you again for the lovely evening Gladio_ ," it read, _"Although I'm not sure if sleep is possible now no matter how tired I am, because all I see when I close my eyes is that horrid monstrosity from the movie_."

Gladio caught the small smile that formed on his face, and he sighed. 

What was Gladio to do?

_Ignis thought we were on a date._

Well, what did Gladio usually do for his dates, who sent him messages later in the evening afterwards?

He pushed himself up on his pillow, and folded one arm behind his head.

" _Same_ ," Gladio messaged back, _"I'm probably not sleeping tonight,_ ” then he added, " _You didn't have any issue falling asleep on the train though."_

A pause, and then another response from Ignis appeared.

" _I don't have my human pillow with me."_

A groan escaped Gladio, and his chest squeezed in a vice grip as he reread the message. For someone who said they’d never done this dating thing before, Ignis sure could be daring.

Gladio released an exhale through his nose and he typed out his response. 

" _Want me to keep ya company then?"_

* * *

The coffee Jared made was always black. 

There were never any embellishments whatsoever, since it's how Clarus preferred it and he was the heaviest, maybe even the only drinker of the house. 

But just for this Sunday morning, it was exactly what Gladio needed, his eyes still heavy and a yawn constantly threatening to break out of his lips as he spooned a heap of sugar into his mug. Earlier that morning, he had to force his eyelids open, feeling like he had only just shut them, but the sun was streaming through the gaps in his curtains and the tweeting birds signalled to his body that he needed to be out of bed. His gaze had landed directly on the phone on his chest, and his gut sank. 

He hadn't expected Ignis to respond to _his_ response the night before, let alone for their messages to ping back and forth so easily well into the night, picking up their conversation where they left off when they parted in person. 

"Did you ever like, I dunno," said Gladio at the breakfast table as he cut through a streak of bacon, "Hold hands with your friends?" 

"Maybe a long time ago as children,” Clarus frowned at his paper, “Surely not in my old age now." 

For a moment Gladio conjured the image of his father, with his grave expression and his heavy robes, walking hand in hand around the Citadel with the King.

He glanced up at his father, and at his deep frown over his wire frame glasses as he perused the news, and promptly wiped the image from mind.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

After weighing out the consequences, Gladio did not say anything.

If he cleared up the misunderstanding with Ignis, it meant crushing the poor guy’s feelings, which would only strain their working relationship, as well as their budding friendship. 

The latter made Gladio's heart sink more. 

Would Ignis have been just as open to learning about Gladio and telling Gladio about himself, if he had accepted Gladio’s invitation as a mere request to hang out?

He can't deny he much preferred their relationship now. Ignis was friendlier, he acknowledged Gladio around the Citadel more often, even breaking away from routine for a brief chat. And then there were the touches, Ignis brushing lint of his shoulder, the light pat on his forearm in acknowledgement, all which tugged Gladio's stomach in various directions. 

Since their mistaken date, Ignis was no longer the image of cold confidence he tended to carry himself in, and any silences between them now were accompanied by Ignis’s self-conscious fidgeting and coy glances, not a disgusted wrinkle of his nose should Gladio even dare to breathe in his direction. And that didn't make sense either. For the better part of their adolescence, it always seemed like Ignis was impartial to him on his best days, and detested him on his worst days.

Wouldn’t you only agree to go on a date with someone if you were—

Y’know, like—

Maybe even a bit—

“Gladio!” someone called out from Gladio’s side, as he exited the training halls. He didn’t normally stay this late in the evening, but there was no better cure for a harried mind than vigorous exercise. 

Turning to follow the voice, he spotted Ignis from the other end of the hall, one arm clutching a briefcase, the other waving at him. Speak of the devil. 

"Are you heading home?" asked Ignis with a small smile, his cheeks once again tinged pink.

"Yeah, I'm all done here. What about you?" 

"Just a couple more things to take care of before I decide to wrap up for the day." 

"Good," Gladio noted the late hour on his watch and he squeezed Ignis's shoulder, "You need to acknowledge your limits more often," 

Ignis flinched under his touch, his ears glowing bright red. 

All those lectures from Clarus about Gladio’s casual touching, how he could be encroaching on people’s personal space, how he was giving nobles’ daughters the “wrong idea” came flooding back, and he pulled his hand away. 

"Listen Gladiolus," asked Ignis, "I need to ask you something." 

Gladio shrugged, "Shoot."

Ignis ran his hand through his fringe, and though the strands dropped back and landed on his forehead, some of it stuck up, but he hadn’t seemed to notice as he cast his gaze to Gladio’s side.

It was kind of endearing. 

"Do you have some time to spare this weekend?" asked Ignis,

"I should, yeah, why?" 

Ignis pursed his lips and brought both hands to grip his briefcase across his chest.

"Would you"—Ignis cleared his throat—"Did you want to—" 

"Yeah?" 

Ignis took a deep breath and said in one rapid stream, "Would you like to go out with me this weekend?" 

Now Gladio found himself in Ignis’s position, with only one point of differentiation, that Ignis _knew_ what he was asking Gladio out to. If Ignis had thought that Gladio asked him out on a date, and Ignis said yes, pretty eagerly in fact, then that meant one thing. At the very least, it meant _something._

If Gladio were to say yes now, then _that_ would also mean something. To keep this going as a ruse could preserve Ignis’s feelings, but Gladio would also be leading him on, thus prolonging the young man’s inevitable heartbreak.

He looked down at the man in front of him. 

Between their first date-not-date and now, Gladio had probably seen Ignis’s entire face in all shades of red in the spectrum. He remembered the soft warm hand that he covered with his, bright green eyes now cast to the ground, and an unfettered smile that lit up the dark street that one chilly autumn evening, now drawn in a thin line that did his full lips no justice. 

Gladio’s throat withered up.

If Gladio said yes now, what exactly was he agreeing to?

"Yeah sure," Gladio adjusted his bag, "I'd love to." 

With so many thoughts and feelings fighting for room in his head, and Ignis’s smile slowly spreading wide on his face, Gladio couldn’t figure that out now, but just for that moment, Gladio couldn’t care less.

* * *

In a conclusion that would come as a surprise to absolutely no one on Eos, there _were_ subtle nuances between going on a date where both parties were aware that they were on a date, and one where the other party hadn’t the faintest idea.

For one thing, between the two of them, Gladio was the bigger mess. He fumbled with their movie tickets, with their popcorn, with his words, with the slender hand that he held in his sweaty palms.

Ignis chose the movie this time. It was a psychological thriller, carrying on the theme from their last movie, _but this one had substance_ , Ignis explained. There were less jump scares, and more downplayed theatrics, but the number of times they squeezed each other's hands would have been no different, maybe even more than last time had anyone been accurately counting. 

Nonetheless, one scene did cause Gladio to jump out of his seat and yell, and again, Ignis flashed him a smug smile from across their arm rests.

Only this time, Gladio completely missed what Ignis’s jibe was, his fear all but forgotten as he sat there, his attention transfixed entirely on the curve of Ignis’s lips as they moved around his words. 

Dinner after the movie were warm savoury crepes from the food truck next to Gladio’s favourite kebab stand. Afterwards, in a bold move that made Gladio’s face overheat, Ignis laced their fingers together and he pulled him down a strip of stores and into a bookstore tucked away in a back alleyway.

Unlike last time, Ignis stayed awake during their train trip, and they talked and rifled through the books they purchased in their shared paper bag. One passenger glared at their sound of laughter. Gladio apologised on their behalf and exchanged a bemused glance with Ignis. Nevertheless, Ignis hushed his voice to prevent any further disturbance, and it pulled Gladio in closer and deeper. 

Just like last time, they said good night at the foot of the stairs to Ignis’s front doorstep, and Gladio’s cheeks almost ached, having never laughed and smiled so much with another person in the space of a few hours in so long. 

Unlike last time, Gladio made the move to hug Ignis first, slinging his arms under his, and lifting him off the ground despite Ignis’s soft yelp, before Ignis’s arms stretching around his wide shoulders washed over him with a confusing warmth. 

And unlike last time, when Ignis leaned up to place a soft kiss on his cheek, Gladio angled his cheek downwards, ready to meet him.

* * *

The following week, Gladio opened his mouth and _said_ something. 

In the sense that by definition, to “ask” someone something involved the very act of “saying something with an inflection at the end to obtain an answer.”

Gladio drifted from one day to another, his thoughts often trailing away, back to the memory of Ignis's melodic laughter and their colourful conversations, but almost always coming back to warm lips against his cheek, soft like the petals from the carnations he and Iris always kept by their mother's portrait on the fireplace.

Everyday he continued to see more of Ignis around the Citadel, but there was something else puzzling about his behaviour. 

“I’ll see you around then Gladio?” Ignis had said earlier that morning, as he had mornings prior, always framed like a question, before he placed a hand on Gladio’s chest and a peck to his cheek. Then he had drawn back, paused and gazed up expectantly, like he was waiting for a response, while Gladio stared dumbfounded at his mouth. 

_I should kiss him back next time_.

A solid weight lightly thumped against the top of his head. Gladio blinked up at Cor, then up at the training sword the older man held above his head, and then at recruit who stood beside him.

“Where’s your head at boy?” said Cor, and he gestured at his fellow recruit, “It’s your turn to strike your opponent.”

_It’s… my turn?_

“Nowhere,” Gladio stammered, “Head’s all here, has been all day, no doubt about it.”

_Ignis was waiting for Gladio’s turn._

An hour later, he walked into the training hall change rooms, battered and bruised from Cor and his fellow recruit’s beating, but thankful for the new perspective Cor had inadvertently given him on the issue.

But if Gladio were to ask Ignis out, after Ignis had asked him out, which was after Ignis had assumed that Gladio had asked _him_ out then that would mean—

Gladio groaned and slapped his hands against his face in front of the change room mirror. 

Turning his head to the side, he ran two fingers along one cheek, where a pair of lips, almost red from the cold, had been hot against his cheek.

It needn't be so complicated, when one thing was simple, salient and certain. 

If Gladio were to ask Ignis out, he could feel those lips again. 

And so as soon as Gladio arrived home that evening, he pulled up Ignis's number on his phone and he _said_ something. 

That is, Gladio asked Ignis out on a date.

* * *

Their next date, third if Gladio started counting from their first date-not-date, second if Gladio considered both parties to be aware as a prerequisite for a date, was a mere week later, and was as good as their last. When the evening came to an end, they walked hand in hand all the way up the stairs and directly in front of Ignis’s uncle’s doorstep. 

Disappointment settled in Gladio's chest as Ignis slid his fingers out of his. 

But it didn’t last long, as Ignis wrapped his arms around Gladio's wide torso in a hug, and Gladio hugged back around his shoulders, relishing in the warmth sweeping through him that he had been seeking all week. 

The tumult within his heart was not given the time to cease as Ignis pulled back and asked, his voice slow and careful, "Can I kiss you Gladio?" 

"What's this all of a sudden?" Gladio grinned, "You already asked me the first time." 

"I’m just..." Ignis glanced down at his feet and then back into Gladio's eyes, “Just in case you've changed your mind.” 

"Nope, the answer's still yes," said Gladio with a chuckle, "Blanket permission, you can kiss me anytime." 

With a smug grin, Gladio pointed his cheek down towards Ignis, and Ignis placed his hands on Gladio’s shoulders. But to his puzzlement, Ignis's face drew closer to his, close enough for Gladio to count the moles beside his mouth, and instead of the soft warm sensation on his cheek that he had come to expect, it instead bloomed against Gladio's lips. 

Gladio's eyes widened and he bounced back a step. Ignis drew back and his face twisted in concern. 

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Gladio looked down at his hand, which he hadn’t realised had drifted over his mouth.

"Was that too forward of me?" Ignis pressed further, 

"No, no it was good! I just—" said Gladio, his cheeks filled with heat. When was the last time someone made _him_ blush? "I just wasn't expecting it." 

Ignis's shoulders relaxed and his concern was replaced with an amused smile and a glint in his eye. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen your face that red before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” said Gladio, rubbing the back of his head, as his racing heartbeat thumped through his ribs.

“I’m hoping it won’t be the last,”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Gladio said with a humph,

"Good night then Gladio," said Ignis with a tinkling laugh that gave Gladio a view of a flash of brilliant white teeth, “I’ll see you around the Citadel.”

"Wait Iggy, hang on a sec," 

He held Ignis by the wrist, and Ignis turned to meet him with a quirked brow. Before Ignis could say anything, Gladio leaned down and pressed his lips against Ignis's.

Now it was Ignis’s turn to blush and to hold his mouth, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

They made for a ridiculous sight. Two boys frozen in front of a doorstep in the cold, their faces redder than the leaves of the surrounding trees. 

"Should've asked for permission first huh?" asked Gladio,

Ignis smiled and bowed his head, and slowly moved his hand back to his side, "You could ask now." 

"Blanket permission?" 

Ignis closed the distance between their faces again. He angled his face up towards Gladio and paused just before he met Gladio's mouth, "Blanket permission."

* * *

It certainly had been a month of firsts. 

For one thing, it was the first time that Gladio had ever found himself swept off his feet. Most people he dated left the onus on him to make _them_ fluster. 

But now Gladio’s found himself blushing shades he never knew he was capable of with every one of Ignis’s parting kisses on his lips after lunch, Ignis’s smile sly as he pulled the brim of Gladio's cap down over a flabbergasted face before he walked away.

They scheduled more dates, more reasons to see each other throughout the week with less time in-between. With strapped schedules an evening on a weekday was the only one that worked—after work for Ignis, after the gym for Gladio—at a small restaurant that would’ve toed the line of fast food a bit too close for Ignis, but it had protein and that was good enough for Gladio. And if the sauce that got left on the corner of Gladio's mouth drew Ignis closer to him to wipe it off with a napkin more often, close enough for _Gladio_ to kiss Ignis, that was an added bonus.

Ignis’s expression of pure shock? Also a bonus.

The ball was then back in Ignis’s court. They both had a class one day a week that started at the same time, and Ignis suggested, breakfast together would be lovely wouldn’t it? 

Gladio did have to wake up earlier to make it to the café near their campus on time—for this class, Gladio's breakfast would normally be a protein shake and a banana—but hey, Gladio started the morning with a full belly, his heart light with the taste of several coffee-flavoured kisses exchanged on the car ride to class, and the image of Ignis’s bright smiling green eyes to get him through the day. 

A week later Gladio asked Ignis out, then Ignis asked to catch up a mere few days after, and so on, until Gladio had lost count of their dates, the number of books they exchanged, the number of kisses Ignis would dare sneak in the Citadel’s hallways or Gladio would steal from Ignis until the very last moment on his uncle's doorstep while he fumbled with the lock on his door, or the number of times he’d slip his hand in Gladio’s to move from one secluded point of a Citadel corridor to another together, or the number of messages it took before Gladio ran his hand through his hair in frustration and crossed into the territory of late night hushed phone calls just to hear Ignis’s voice one last time before the day ended.

Before, Gladio could count on one hand how times Ignis would give him a strained and polite purse of his lips that passed as a smile a month. Now Ignis revealed a myriad of hidden expressions that Gladio had lost count of, and surely the bright smiles Ignis flashed Gladio day to day that made his stomach backlip every time now clocked in in the thousands. 

And it was even more difficult to keep track of the times Gladio had to actively to keep his hands above Ignis’s waist whenever he hugged him goodbye or hold himself back from deepening their kisses, or the number of times Ignis himself was his last thought before he slept, filling his dreams of images of a pale figure under him and of legs that went forever tangled around his waist. Gladio was certainly not counting _those_.

This was definitely no longer about Gladio chasing the same bonds his father had with companions.

His father’s stories never spoke about a racing heart nor a deep longing in one's chest until they saw the other again. In actual fact, they _did_ , but they were the iterations of his father's stories that included his mother, not members of the King's inner circle.

What added to his confusion was that amidst the warm bubble that surrounded Gladio after every waking moment he spent with Ignis, there was always a sinking feeling of guilt that Gladio couldn't figure out, like a lump of lead that took residence in his gut since their one-sided first date, just until Ignis could make him forget about it again.

* * *

“I heard from Regis that you and Scientia are getting on well,” said Clarus one morning at the breakfast table, his eyes poring over the paper in his hands,

“Yeah,” Gladio swallowed a hard gulp of orange juice, “You could say that.”

* * *

“What’re you up to on Friday evening?” asked Ignis, one evening from the passenger seat of Gladio’s car.

“Normally just dinner with Dad and Iris,” said Gladio, his eyes trained on the road as any responsible driver should. It was a shame that Gladio couldn't watch him as they talked, but freeing Ignis's hands of the steering wheel left them free to entertain themselves, “But it’s cool if I’m not there.”

Ignis hummed as the car pulled up at the lights, and started tracing shapes on the back of Gladio's right hand as it gripped the stick shift, “Would you like to come over to my uncle’s for dinner then? I could fix us something to eat,”

“Sure, but only ‘cause you’re cooking,” said Gladio, “That’s all you needed to say and it would’ve been an automatic yes,”

“It doesn’t hurt to check,” said Ignis with a quiet laugh, “We could watch a movie after too if you had something in mind to bring. My uncle’s out of town for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Ignis’s finger burned on the skin on the back of his hand.

Ignis invited him over to his house. While his uncle’s out of town. Gladio swallowed. Just the two of them, in his uncle’s house alone, together.

Compared to Gladio's previous relationships, whatever he had with Ignis now progressed at a slow, but comfortable pace. They've been seeing each other just under two months now, and they haven't gone further than their innocent kisses. And for now, Gladio was content. He didn't want to push Ignis, was Gladio's most common excuse, along with the fact that Ignis hadn't initiated anything further either, so maybe he didn't _want_ to, never mind Ignis's subtle signals that indicated the contrary, like lingering on Gladio's lips at his uncle's doorstep, and the small frown that would follow when Gladio would pull away to bid him a hasty good night.

"Did you want to come in for something warm to drink?" asked Ignis at the end of one evening, 

"Nah," said Gladio, "I'm pretty warm already. Good night Iggy!" 

Yeah, nah, that wasn’t subtle at all. Pretty soon, Ignis will catch on to Gladio's avoidance, and Gladio would be without answers. The desire was definitely there, smoldering deep within, burning brighter with everyone of Ignis's touches, but beneath it all, the heavy feeling in his gut that he couldn't quite puzzle out incessantly returned, guilting him out of doing anything else but run away.

He squeezed the steering wheel with his left hand.

“I’ll try and think of something,” said Gladio, his voice coming out as a slight croak.

* * *

Dinner was superb, but it would be an insult for Gladio to expect anything else. 

Ignis talked Gladio through the recipe as he cooked, with Gladio’s eyes glued to his figure the entire time from his barstool by the kitchen island. It was rare for Gladio to see Ignis so relaxed and entirely in his element, being in his kitchen, in his own home in a v-neck sweater that was half a size too large on him, the kind that seemed to only grow more homely with every use, and a faded pair of jeans worn more for comfort than for appearances.

Their conversation flowed and bounced from one tangent to another, all the way to when they ate huddled around the kitchen island. Dessert was a small cheesecake Gladio brought despite Ignis’s insistence that he shouldn’t need to bring anything as he was his guest, protests that were easily silenced with a quick kiss.

The dishes tossed in the dishwasher, their dessert heartily devoured, Gladio sat on the couch with a throw blanket across his lap, whilst Ignis fiddled with the disc that Gladio brought in front of his uncle's TV. 

The movie was a piece of historical fiction set in old Lucis, following the life of a servant who eventually falls in love with one of the King’s generals. There was a _bit_ of romance, but the political tensions were the main plotline, Gladio insisted. But it was one of the more tasteful book adaptations he had in his collection, and if some scenes were a hair away from racy, they were executed with an art to them. Or so Gladio would say.

"So you brought us a romance to watch," asked Ignis knowingly, 

"No," Gladio shifted on the couch and uncovered a spot under the throw blanket for Ignis to sit, "It's _historical fiction_ ," 

The opening credits started, and Ignis switched off the lights in the living room and sat himself next to Gladio, who covered their laps with the throw blanket. 

“What on Eos is he wearing?” asked Ignis about a third of the way into the movie. At some point between the start of the movie and now, Gladio had draped his arm across the backrest of the couch, and eventually over Ignis’s shoulders, and Ignis had inched closer until their shoulders pressed against each other.

“Hey, it’s historically accurate,” said Gladio. Engrossed entirely on the TV screen with his thumbnail between his teeth, Gladio could take the time to focus on Ignis's features. He followed the light of the TV bouncing off his cheekbones, tracking down the moles on his cheek and down to his neck, then to his collarbones peeking out of his sweater, and then to the path that the chain he wore created to the skull pendant that sat just above the point of the v-neck collar of his sweater that met the pale skin of the top of his chest. Gladio moistened his chapped lips with his tongue, and continued, “They really did their research on costuming, as ridiculous as they look.”

“Have you seen this before?”

“I’ve read the book plenty of times, but I’ve never seen the movie,” Gladio’s heart thumped through his chest as Ignis moved closer to lay his head against it, “I figured now would be a good time as any,”

“Did the book have just as much exposition?” Ignis drawled, his voice travelling through the fabric of Gladio's hoodie, 

“We _need_ the set-up,” Gladio explained. His nose caught the soft scent of lavender. Ignis must’ve showered just before Gladio arrived. Gladio let out a shuddered exhale he hoped Ignis hadn't noticed, then added, “It shows you the political climate of that period of time.”

“And we need to know that before the general eventually has sex with his King's servant?”

Gladio snorted, then broke out into a loud bellowed laugh.

“Well do we?” asked Ignis, the mirth also clear in his voice,

“Yes, yes we do,” 

“I’ll keep that in mind when the general finally ahem, _breaches his defenses_ then,”

And as if it were even possible, Gladio laughed even harder, and Ignis’s shoulders shook under his arm as his laughter grew louder too, and Gladio felt it through his chest, completely drowning out the drone of the ancient councilman in the movie. As their laughter subsided and they caught their breaths, Gladio turned to look at Ignis, who had sat up from Gladio’s chest.

He met Gladio’s glance with his own, a smug smile across his face and a wily twinkle to his eye, illuminated in the dark living room by the light of the TV.

It was exactly like their first date. 

Only this time, Gladio slid one hand down Ignis’s back and cupped Ignis’s cheek with his other and held his lips firm against Ignis’s.

Ignis pressed his hands to Gladio’s chest and froze in his grip.

“Should I stop?” asked Gladio,

With wide eyes and his glasses knocked askew Ignis shook his head.

_Gods, he’s adorable._

“I’m sorry— I’ve never really—" Ignis muttered mere inches away from Gladio’s face, his warm breath against Gladio's lips a test to his willpower, 

"We don't need to do anything you don't want to," said Gladio,

Ignis paused, and his eyes darted to the side. The pulsing ears in Gladio's grew louder as he watched the apple in Ignis’s throat bob. 

"I'd really like it if you kissed me some more," he finally murmured,

“That, I would love to do,” said Gladio with a soft chuckle, “Are you okay with me taking your glasses off?”

Ignis nodded, unable to say anything else. 

Gladio gently plucked off Ignis’s glasses from his face, and he placed them on the coffee table in front of the TV. He turned back to look at Ignis. Without his glasses _and_ with his half-a-size-too-big sweater he looked closer to his age than how he normally did. 

“You still okay?” asked Gladio,

“Yes,” said Ignis softly, 

The movie left to drone on in the background, Gladio leaned back in and took Ignis’s lips in another kiss, then another, and another, until he’d lost count of those too, and his chest fluttered when Ignis clutched at the front of his hoodie and began meeting each kiss with tentative brushes of his lips. 

Blood rushed through Gladio's ears as he pulled Ignis to sit between his legs and pressed him to lean against the backrest of the couch. His hand on Ignis’s back travelled down his spine, gently feeling out its curve through the fabric of his sweater, and settled on Ignis’s lower back, not daring to go further. 

He licked and poked at Ignis's lips with trepidation, and he wanted nothing more than to groan when Ignis gingerly parted his lips to let him in, his taste sweet from lingering vanilla in Ignis’s mouth. Gladio’s pulse reverberated loud in his ears with each kiss, gentle and testing, feeling out for every twitch of Ignis’s fingers squeezing the front of his hoodie with each slide of his tongue. His chest tightened and it took all of his self-restraint to ignore the embers that the fresh scent of lavender mixed with Ignis's natural musk stoked in his belly, when Ignis held his arms around his neck and began to reciprocate with his own clumsy strokes.

There was a shift of Gladio's leg to the right, and their hips met in the briefest of friction. Against Gladio's lips, Ignis released a small whimper. The blood in Gladio's veins was like an electric current as it shot down somewhere lower.

Gladio eased his lips off Ignis, breaking away to let him catch his breath. In the flashing light of the TV screen, he could just distinguish the faint blush on Ignis’s face, his shining lips parted around his shallow breaths and the glint of green in his eyes as he held Gladio’s gaze. Gladio wanted nothing more than to wrap Ignis back in his arms and kiss him until he lost count of the hours of the evening, and of the number of whimpers he’ll tease out of him, along with many other sounds Gladio longed to be the cause of.

But that deep sinking sensation returned and formed a pit in his gut.

“Hey Iggy,” said Gladio. He kept one hand wrapped around Ignis’s back, but he lowered the other from Ignis’s face and down to hold his hand.

“Yes?” said Ignis, his voice soft and breathless,

“Do you remember when I first asked you out?”

“I do yes,” Ignis glanced down at their joined hands, and then back up at Gladio, “Why do you ask?”

“When I first asked you out,” Gladio took a deep breath and he lowered his eyes away from Ignis’s inquiring gaze and made the mistake of looking at Ignis’s lower lip. He swallowed, and looked up at Ignis again, “I actually wasn’t asking you out on a date.”

“What?" Ignis asked in almost whisper, 

“I really just wanted to hang out.”

“So then— I— You—”

“I didn’t realise we were on a date ‘til I walked you home that night,” Gladio grinned apologetically, “Funny right?”

Ignis’s puzzled expression morphed into a sharp glare. 

“Was this all just a joke to you?” said Ignis, his voice climbing down an octave and to a temperature that was cold as steel. He wrenched himself away from Gladio’s grip, and Gladio’s chest twinged when Ignis wrapped his arms across his front and moved to the other end of the couch, “Were you just having your fun— Toying with my feelings— Did someone put you up to this?!”

“What! No, no, you've got it all wrong, no one put me up to this— Or anything— this was all me—” Gladio kept his distance, despite how badly he wanted to draw closer, “I really wanted to be friends with you so I asked you to hang out, but I didn’t realise you took it that way.”

Ignis’s head lowered but the grimace of pain that flashed on his face when Gladio finished his last sentence made the twinge in his chest twist into a deep ache. 

“And I didn’t think I’d enjoy spending time with you as much as I did,” Gladio added weakly. 

Ignis’s arms around himself slackened and he lifted his eyes to briefly regard Gladio.

“I dunno if you remember, but we were makin’ out on your couch just a few seconds ago," said Gladio, "Did _that_ seem like a joke to you?”

“I don’t know with you okay Gladio? I’m not— I’m not like you, for all I know you can easily just do these things with people, but for me— I can’t. Things like this— I should’ve questioned you the first time, had I been level-headed I would’ve clarified but—”

“But what?”

Ignis cast his eyes back down on the floor, “I really liked you."

Thankful for the near darkness, a wide grin slowly spread across Gladio's face along with a heat that burst out of his chest from the admission. His voice bright despite himself, Gladio asked, “You mean even before I asked you out?”

Ignis nodded. 

"I thought nothing would come out of this— this— _pointless affliction_ ,” said Ignis with a small wave of his hand, ”And I was prepared to keep our relations cordial for the sake of work."

His frown deepened further when Gladio ran his hand through his hair and slowly started laughing. 

"And what exactly is it do you find so funny Gladiolus?" 

"All that time, I thought you _hated_ me."

“I didn't know how to act around you,” Ignis sighed, “But you were always so friendly and insistent, so when you came to me one day and you asked me out so plainly, I suppose my mind heard what I wanted it to hear, and I pushed my feelings onto you,” Ignis drew a deep breath and let out a weary exhale, “I apologise now for putting you in this awkward position.”

“Nah, it’s partly my fault too,” said Gladio, “For not catching on.”

For a moment, the two stayed silent, and the only sound that remained was from the cacophony of clanging swords in an intense battle scene from the movie on the TV.

“Where do we go from here?” asked Ignis quietly, “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do for the sake of my feelings.”

“What the fuck Iggy, seriously? You don’t think I want this?” Gladio fixed his gaze on Ignis, who continued to instead examine each stitch on the throw blanket in his lap, “Why do you think I said yes when _you_ asked me out?”

“To be polite, clearly!” said Ignis with a sharp shrug of his shoulders,

“Then why do you think I asked you out after?”

“I suppose at that point it would’ve been too uncomfortable to pretend nothing had happened between us, or to reveal any disconcerting truths.”

“And I could’ve just done that, but I didn't,” Gladio gently placed his hands on Ignis’s shoulders, “I asked you out ‘cause I had a lot of fun with you and I think you're fuckin’ adorable," Gladio angled his head down to try and catch Ignis's eye, “I really like you too, Iggy."

Ignis recoiled, and folded his arms across his chest again.

“Okay now you’re shy on me again,” sighed Gladio, “I was literally just suckin’ your face like I’ve thought about it all week—which I _have_ —and I thought it would’ve been obvious from the past few weeks that I’m not doing this out of politeness, I dunno why you’re so surprised to hear that I like you.”

“Of course I’ve gotten that impression— But I've told you I'm new to this,” Ignis exhaled through his nose, “I'm not used to hearing someone say it out loud,”

“What?” Gladio grinned. He liked the sound of it too. “That I like you?”

Ignis brought his knees up to his chest and hugged himself tighter.

“Dunno why it’s an issue,” said Gladio, “You just said you liked me.”

Still making to scrutinise the blanket on his lap, Ignis’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Iggy, come here, look at me.”

There was a risk that Gladio had taken his teasing too far and Ignis had shut himself off for the night, and Gladio held his breath, but Ignis reluctantly brought his eyes back up to meet Gladio’s, and he could let out a sigh of relief.

“Are you free tomorrow?” asked Gladio, 

“Why are you asking me this now?" said Ignis, his voice small and hesitant, 

“Wanna go see a movie with me? We can have dinner someplace nice after, then go back to your uncle’s place,” Gladio inched closer to Ignis’s side of the couch like how one approach a scared animal, and placed a hand on Ignis's elbow, carefully, as if to check if he would pull back, "See where things go, maybe make out a little? But only if you wanna,” then he added, with a playful inflection, “I heard your uncle’s out of town.”

Ignis’s lips pursed, caught between an insistence that he was still upset with Gladio thank you very much, and a poorly suppressed smile. 

“Is it a horror movie?” Ignis finally asked,

“Depends what they’re showing, but I’m hoping it is so you have a reason to grab me,”

“You can't exactly redo a first date Gladio," said Ignis, his brows drawn in skepticism,

"We're not _redoing_ , 'cos I did enjoy it," Gladio gave Ignis a lopsided smile, "But I wanna try and make our first date special for both of us y'know?" 

“It would've helped if we both knew we were on it—”

“Exactly! You’re a genius Iggs, that’s why I like ya,” said Gladio with a guffaw that made Ignis roll his eyes, "Think of it as, not really a do-over, but more like— What’s that word they use in council meetings again when they wanna fix something—" 

"An amendment?" 

"That’s the one!” Gladio gently squeezed one of Ignis’s shoulders and he took it as a good sign that he hadn’t flinched or pulled away, “So whaddya say Iggy, are you free for an _amended_ first date with me?" 

It was hesitant and Gladio really had to look closely to see it, but he almost punched the air in triumph when Ignis finally let himself smile, "I suppose I can find the time." 

“Awesome, I’ll pick you up at seven?” 

“It’s a date,” said Ignis, more as a firm declaration than a playful addition. He slowly uncrossed his arms and lowered his legs back on the couch but made no move to get away from Gladio's touch. With a jut of his lower lip that made Gladio want to kiss him again, he sternly added, “You know, just so we’re both clear.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” said Gladio with a sheepish smile.

"But I don't understand, you could've just pretended you knew," said Ignis with a puzzled quirk of his brow, "Why tell me now?" 

Gladio shrugged. Why _did_ he have to bring it up? They were getting on well and he could've just left it until it became a distant and funny story look back on one day. 

But it was that heavy weight in his gut. 

Gladio leaned his chin on his hand, and his elbow on his knee, "I was jealous," he mumbled.

"Of who?" 

Gladio put his hands in the pouch of his hoodie, and hunched his shoulders, "Of you," 

"You can't possibly be saying—" 

"That I was jealous 'cause you were on our first date and I wasn't?" 

And at long last, the sinking feeling in his gut dissipated.

"Oh dear, _Gladio_ ," Ignis cracked a smile and muffled his laugh with his hand, "That's so— so—" 

"I know, I know, it sounds dumb," said Gladio, 

"No, it’s not dumb," said Ignis, "It’s precious, more like."

"Yeah, well, I had fun with you that night, but it sucked that I didn't know," said Gladio with a self-conscious scratch of the back of his head. He should be glad that Ignis was smiling again, but Ignis's amusement made his cheeks flush in embarrassment, "'cause one day I hope the rest of your firsts’ll be with me too." 

That was one way to wipe the teasing smile off Ignis’s face. He bowed his head in embarrassment, and clutched at the blanket on his lap.

"T-that remains to be seen," muttered Ignis, “We’ve yet to go on our first date _together_ , for one thing.”

"One step at a time right?" Gladio chuckled. He scooted closer until their knees were touching again, and took both of Ignis's hands in his, “What do you wanna do now? We could just keep watching the movie if you want.”

It took Ignis what felt to Gladio like an endless moment of silent thought, before he coyly turned back to face him and to Gladio's unbridled joy, closed his hands around Gladio's. 

"Can you kiss me again?" Ignis asked, 

"Before our amended first date?" said Gladio with a warm smile as he wrapped one arm around Ignis's lower back, "Order's a bit backwards don't you think?" 

"I have to ensure you're aware of your own intentions this time," said Ignis with a modest but unmistakable smile.

"Ha, I am perfectly aware now, thanks," Gladio chuckled and he leaned back in to brush against Ignis’s lips, "But I'd be happy to remind ya."

* * *

After breathing in the cool air, Clarus released a quiet exhale. Regis was right. The crisp fresh air made Clarus’s headache a world of difference. He walked aside Regis, who had one hand on his cane, and the other on his phone against his ear as the two made their way to one of the Citadel’s gardens, one that was bound to be empty hours past lunch. 

The turn of the hour was when the outdoor areas of the Citadel were most crowded, with staff and recruits bustling through to move from one appointment to another, but in the late afternoon, particularly when winter tread so closely at their doorstep and made her presence known with the bite of her embrace, it was rare to find anyone else dilly-dallying about. It was the very reason that the King took what would have been an hour-long talk with his Shield of various pressing but already dry matters within the looming walls of the Citadel, and out into a pleasant stroll in the vestiges of the autumn sun. 

Rolling his shoulders, Clarus leaned against a column as Regis continued his phone conversation. The matter was of no concern to Clarus, and it was a relatively safe area they were in. Even the Shield of the King should be allowed time when their minds could rest, even for a short moment, especially for a pleasant autumn afternoon such as this. 

He looked past the column that they stood behind, and out into what at first glance, was an empty courtyard. 

It seemed two lone figures had the same idea.

Under the brilliant red leaves of a maple tree, two figures sat snug against each other on a stone bench, one dressed for the office, the other in the Crownsguard training uniform and a dark baseball cap. Though their laughter carried across the courtyard, they kept their voices low as they talked, like everything they said to each other was an intimate secret to be kept between them. 

The shorter of the two boys turned to push up the brim of the taller boy’s cap and he leaned in for a kiss. 

“Gladiolus and Ignis are getting on well,” said Regis as he peered over Clarus’s shoulder from behind him, "Still feeding him with all your old stories, I see?”

Clarus let out a weary sigh. With how different the two boys had been as children, he had worried the two of them would struggle to find common ground. Though his stories were to set an example for Gladiolus, to instil with him the values of a good Shield and a good friend no matter his place in his King's circle, further down the track he had hoped that they would also help give Ignis—at the time a small child, alone without his family in a foreign country—a chance at a genuine friendship. 

He worried that Ignis didn’t seem the type to bend so easily. But Gladio had always been an unstoppable force.

The shorter boy pulled away from their kiss and for a moment, the two boys sat with their joined hands on the shorter boy's lap, the only sound between them the rustle of golden leaves being carried away by the wind at their feet.

Gladio nervously whipped his head around, then wrapped an arm around Ignis's shoulders. 

On that evening all those years ago when Gladio was but a laddie sat at Clarus's feet by the fireplace, listening to his stories with rapt and awed attention wondering with wide eyed amazement what his future had in store for _him_ , Clarus never would have expected the result to be the image before him—of his son, the future Shield to the Prince, and his fond and tender gaze at the Prince's future Advisor as he lay his head against his shoulder.

An ache settled in Clarus’s chest. Aster surely would've been overjoyed. She always did have more of a flair for romance than Clarus did.

It would be a tough road ahead, should the boys deem it worth treading. Bonds stronger than anything under the light of the Crystal indeed. 

"Let's give the two their privacy," said Regis with a kind smile and a hand on Clarus’s shoulder, "Come, let's head back."

“Gladiolus never did do anything by halves,” Clarus said, with a solemn shake of his head. 

Looking out at the two boys, Regis’s smile was wistful and nostalgic. He turned back to Clarus, and with his free hand, he lightly touched Clarus’s forearm. 

"Just like his father," said Regis. 

It was on reflex that Clarus glanced around the garden for any passersby, for his King's security he would say, before he brushed the back of his fingers along Regis’s proffered hand.

Like the affectionate display of another Amicitia swordsman just meters away from them, Clarus’s touch was gentle and light as he laced his fingers with Regis’s, and together, they walked hand in hand back into the Citadel.

**Author's Note:**

> This was yet another "hey let's write something short and silly for a kink meme prompt but then let it get away from me" so I've had to split in two!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this epic of two dumb idiots in love.
> 
> And I'm on twitter if you wanna see me yell about everything _but_ writing: [@musterings1](https://twitter.com/musterings1)


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